


Sending Postcards From A Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here)

by orphan_account



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John makes it completely obvious to Simon how much he adores him, and the singer doesn't treat the fact very kindly. John told himself he was alright with it, but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sending Postcards From A Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here)

"Okay, okay," Simon purred into one of the girl's ears, putting his arm around her. "I'll tell ya the Goddamn story..." He chuckled softly as the other girl beside him leaned closer to hear what he had to say, a jealous pout on her full lips since she wasn't the one Simon had his full attention on. 

John's eyes shot over to Simon, listening just enough to know what was going on. He was going to tell the story, make a friend seem like a complete jackass, make a girl (or in a really lucky case, both) laugh, then take off with him. It'd been happening everytime Duran went to a bar, but he was only one bothered by it. 

He scoffed at himself and his behavior, watching the girls to see exactly what they had he didn't. He'd managed the pleading pout, Simon just ignored it. He had the curious brown eyes when he needed them. He had the long legs and the long brown hair. What else did he need? 

"Siiiiiimon..." It was one of the girls. She'd thrown her arms around him and gently kissed his cheek. That's what John deserved for also liking a celebrity, he figured. 

"Shit, fuck this," he whispered to himself. God dammit, he would find out what was keeping Simon from him. Had he just not seemed interested enough in him? He'd honestly never actually thrown himself at Simon... yet. 

Before he knew it, John was standing behind Simon, doing his best to keep a neutral look. "Charley," he whispered, tugging on the back of his shirt and bending down slightly to make his face closer to his to get his attention. "I'd like to talk to you..." 

Simon scowled at him, his eyes shifting to the girls. One of them was tugging at John's shirt, but he'd grown to just ignore that. "... I'm a bit busy, Nigel. Go bother Nick or someone..." He tapped on the girl's shoulder to get her attention again. 

"No, Charley..." John whined, crossing his arms in a lame attempt to look angry with him. "Come talk to me, now... It's important..." 

Simon glared at him then stood up from the stool, apologizing to the girls, and promising he'd be back. He took a step away and placed his hands on his hips, actually looking upset with John. "What the fuck do you want?" he asked. 

"Lemme tell you in private," John said softly. He didn't look at him, knowing Simon's angry look would only disappoint him. He grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and Simon followed him to the bathroom. They made it inside and John locked the door behind them. 

"What's so important you needed to tell me in private?" Simon asked, rolling his eyes at John. "No one was paying attention. What, did you fuckin' kill a man?" 

John laughed and stepped closer to Simon, who gave him a puzzled look. The look made the younger blush, it was a look he only really gave him... Even though it wasn't a good look. His eyes trailed down and he smirked to himself. "Damn... Those girls really got you excited," he murmured. 

"Yes, and this conversation is killing it," Simon said flatly. "Please hurry up and tell me. They're waiting." 

"I wanted to tell you... I can take care of this better than those girls," John muttered, stepping even closer and unzipping Simon's pants. The man looked even more puzzled and quickly slapped away his hand. 

"You're fucking drunk, again, aren't you?" he asked John, pulling his hand up and away from his crotch. 

The brunette frowned and shook his head, trying to break his hand away. "Sober," he said. "Thanks for having so much faith in me." 

"I don't believe that, dumbass," Simon mumbled, holding his wrist tighter. 

"I'm not," John said. "Only had a cream soda tonight." He giggled and moved his face closer to Simon. "See?" He opened his mouth for the older to smell to make sure there was no alcohol on his breath, but his mind went elsewhere. Since he was so close, he pushed his lips up against Simon's. 

To keep himself from becoming disappointed, John pulled away from the kiss. "Now I'll show you how Goddamn good I am," he mumbled, opening up Simon's pants with his free hand. 

"You're a fucking idiot," Simon mumbled softly, letting go of his hand. "You tell one person and I will break your neck..." John snickered, he knew Simon wouldn't turn down a free blow job. 

"Didn't think of it 'til you told me not to," John said. He lowered himself down on his knees and pulled the man's underwear down, beaming at what he saw. His eyes flicked up to Simon, who's own eyes were shut and he appeared to be trying to convince himself John was someone else. The younger didn't care, though. He put his lips around Simon's cock and flicked the tip with his tongue, giggling to himself with excitement. 

"You're a fucking idiot," Simon repeated, biting the inside of his cheek. "Fucking... idi-" John managed to shut him up by taking all of him into his mouth and sucking. The older man groaned loudly and cursed again, pleasure finding itself in his words. 

John kept his eyes on Simon and his loud curses as he began to move his mouth up and down the shaft. His moans were basically music to his ears. He'd waited so fucking long to hear them. He quickly learned Simon was not the quiet type in any sense. As John did more, Simon's swearing became louder and he found words the brunette had never known existed. 

"Fucking hell, John," Simon whispered, his hand reaching down to grab the back of his head. He thrusted into his mouth, and John nearly choked. He caught himself, though, and was prepared for the next few thrusts, ignoring his gag reflexes. "You idiot..." Simon groaned as he thrusted. "I... fucking hate you... for this..." 

As soon as Simon finished the sentence, he jerked and came inside John's mouth. He pulled his mouth away and cringed, standing up to spit out the cum in the trash. The older man spent a minute in catching his breath and then fixed his pants. "... Better when you're not using that mouth for talking," he commented, glaring at John. "Whoever taught you to speak was a fucking idiot..." 

John shrugged off the words, ignoring it was probably the twentieth time he'd heard 'fucking idiot' that night. He grinned widely at Simon, running over to kiss his cheek. "Catch ya later," he purred into his ear, before unlocking the door and running off.  
\-----  
Teetering on the wooden chair, John kept his eyes on Simon's every move. Listened to every word he said. The singer had always been able to easily excite John, but after the day prior, he felt he could easily lose himself around him. He'd honestly forgotten about the rest of the band being in the room. 

"Sorry-" Simon mumbled, putting his hands in his hair and looking at the table. He was apologizing for spacing out, something John should have done also. "I'm a bit pissed, I was hoping those girls would have stayed at the bar..." 

"Charley." John decided to put in input. He smirked at him. "Someone decide to blow you off?" he asked. The words flowed out in a way only Simon would be able to pick up on. 

"Fuck off," Simon muttered. He looked at the paper, then at John. "What the fuck did you write on this thing?" he asked, holding it up to show him. "It doesn't make any sense at all!" 

"What?" John asked, squinting his eyes to look at the paper. The smirk instantly returned. "Was I making it too hard for you?"

Simon put the paper down and crossed off what John wrote. "Fuck it then, never needed it..." he hissed. "Some dumb shit you've written, can't be anything good..." 

"Love you, too," John mumbled. "I'm heading out now..." He tried to set the chair down on all four legs, but ended up kicking it backwards and falling alongside with it. His legs in air once he hit the ground, his head smacking the floor. "I-I'm going now..." he whispered after a roar of laughter from the rest of the band. He stood up and dashed out of the room.  
\-----  
It was a few hours later and John had slipped from his hotel room, on a journey to go buy booze. He ran down the stairs, the elevator was slow and rickety. He bursted into the lobby, but something distracting was there, chatting with a tall brunette. 

John rushed over to him, looking over the girl quickly and then taking his time in looking over Simon. The girl gave John a funny look, then an apologetic look and walked away. 

"She was a bitch anyways," Simon mumbled, glaring at her from behind. Soon the glare shifted to John. "What d'ya want?" he asked him, folding his arms.

"You busy?" John asked hopefully, grinning at Simon widely. It could be easily seen in his eyes how glad he was to talk to him. It was creepy. 

"No," Simon said. "Did you wanna do something?" he questioned, raising a brow as he awaited an answer. 

John giggled as he looked at the elder man. "You're so fucking attractive," he whispered aloud. Simon pretended to not hear that comment. "Come up to my room, I wanna show you something." 

"Nothing better to do..." Simon said, sighing at himself. "Alright, fine..." He began to walk towards the stairs, knowing exactly where John's room was located. 

John was too excited to walk at the same pace as Simon. He took hold of his arm and dragged him up the stairs and to his room, shoving him inside. He shut the door and grinned widely at Simon, walking over to his bed while the older was giving him a rude look. 

"Show me what you wanted to show me," Simon said, looking over the room that was identical to his own. "What's so important that you had to come looking for me?" 

"Don't be so fucking cocky, I wasn't looking for you," John said. He plopped back on the bed, his eyes scanning over Simon. "C'mere." He held out his hands, gesturing for the man to come closer. 

"Like hell you weren't," Simon muttered, stepping closer to John. "Show me now, you shit..." The younger took ahold of his tie, using it to bring him closer. Their faces close and John could feel his breath on him. "... This isn't showing me." 

"Fine, fine..." John slid back, pulling Simon on top of him. His eyes went down to look at his body, then flicked back up at him as he licked his lips. "Don't say anything right now," he told him. He released his tie and unbuttoned part of his own shirt. "Feel..." He grabbed Simon's hand and put it on his chest so he could feel his heartbeat. "... That's how I feel around you..." John said, smiling. "Now don't say anything, I don't wanna hear your sarcastic comment, love... But I prefer that you act on it." 

Simon looked at his face and before he could react, John's lips met his own. He wasn't holding onto him, so if he wanted to leave, he would be able to. But he didn't. John didn't leave time for him to kiss back and moved his head away. "Lube's in the suitcase," he said flatly. "I want you to fuck me." 

In a moment, Simon was off the bed, grabbing the lube from his suitcase and finding where he'd stored his condoms. John was undressing himself, tossing his clothing away and whispering how happy he was. 

He stopped once he was only in his underwear and watched as Simon crawled back on the bed, soon matching how much he was wearing. John couldn't help but stare, the largest smirk on his face. 

"As I said, you're fucking attractive," John murmured, inching closer. "I fucking love your body..." 

"And I fucking love when you shut up," Simon replied softly. He grabbed John's hand as he was about to reach out for him and eyed him curiously. "You've taken someone before, right?" he asked. 

"Yes, just get to it," John mumbled, pulling his hand away and lying on his stomach. "I want you to fuck me, Charley... Hard..." He raised his brows. 

Simon moved closer and yanked down John's underwear, throwing it away from them. He quickly took his own underwear off and John giggled with excitement. He stared at the ceiling, humming to himself as Simon prepared. "Charley, Charley, Charley..." he said happily. 

Simon placed his hands on John's hips, his eyes facing down as he entered him. The younger bit his lip roughly, his eyes squeezed shut. "Fuckin' hell-" he gasped out. "You're huge..." Simon only responded with a grunt, not wanting to use actual words. He held it once he was fully inside of John, their eyes meeting again. 

"... Fuckin' hell, Charley..." John said breathlessly. "... Jesus, you're... so cute..." 

Simon quickly looked back away from him and started to move again. Whenever he thrusted, he made a soft grunt that made John even crazier about him. He managed to hit John in just the right way, as well, and the younger was almost immediately moaning uncontrolably. 

"Charley... Charley...!" John sighed, rocking his hips with his thrusting. "Fuck- Charley..." He was holding onto his back to keep their bodies close, since Simon wouldn't have done that optionally. "God dammit, Charley..." 

The mere thought of Simon was enough to draw John to the edge, and when he felt him cum, he did almost immediately as well, whining with pleasure. He let go of him and fell back on the bed, smiling widely at Simon. 

"Jesus Christ, you are good..." he whispered to him, running his hand through the man's hair, who seemed to be going out of his way to look at him. He whimpered as Simon pulled out of him, feeling completely empty without him inside him. 

The older didn't say anything to him. He stood up and threw the condom away, then walked to his clothes and John knew he was going to leave. 

"I won't let you..." he whispered softly. He sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him back into the bed. Simon fell on his back, right next to John, frowning and looking at him. "You're not leaving me..." he told him, his cheeky grin flashing at Simon. 

He pulled the blankets over them and looked at Simon, biting the inside of his cheek. The man's hair was damp from sweat and his eyes were staring at him. He was still panting softly, a bit tired from earlier. John imagined he probably looked a lot similar. 

He knew there was no point in saying anything at this point, so he didn't. He rested his head on Simon's chest, for comfort and so he could hear the man's heartbeat. It wasn't as fast as his own normally was around him but it was faster than it usually would be on a regular person. He wrapped a leg around Simon to hold him closer. He rested a hand next to his head and closed his eyes, wanting to just appreciate the moment with Simon. 

He realized if Simon really wanted to go, he would end up doing so. And John told himself he was alright with that. He frowned a bit at the thought, though. He snuggled closer to the man and decided to sleep, trusting Simon would do what was best.  
\-----  
When John finally woke up, the first thing he noticed was warmth. He smiled to himself and saw he was lying on someone and he almost immediately knew who it was. He stayed with him. 

He waited a few minutes for Simon to wake up on his own. He didn't move at all so he wouldn't be the one to wake him, but after a bit of waiting, Simon stirred. 

"... Morning..." John whispered, picking his head up and looking at Simon. His eyes were half shut but open enough to see and he didn't look too pleased. 

He sat up a bit then muttered, "I meant to leave a few hours ago. I'm taking off now..." he said, pulling the sheets off him. John smiled to himself, knowing that was just a lie. An excuse. 

"Alright, Charley..." he whispered. He leaned closer and gently kissed his collarbone, maybe hoping it would make him stay. Simon visibly bit his lip and John took this as a great thing. "... I'll see you later. Last night was wonderful..." 

Simon moved away from John and began to put on his clothes. He didn't say anything to him again, probably nervous or scared to. He looked at him one last time, his eyes filled with curiousity, then took off like he said.  
\-----  
The next day, after a concert was when John and Simon finally spoke again. The bassist ran up to him, making a point of drinking from a cream soda so he wouldn't chalk him off as 'drunk', and have every word he said shrugged off. 

"Charley," he said softly, sipping from the straw and beaming at him. The singer was the one with a beer. He glared at John as he stepped closer to him, wanting little or nothing to do with him. His expression told John this. "... Charley," he repeated. "You looked gorgeous tonight..." 

Simon frowned wider and crushed his beer can, then tossed it on the ground. "Dammit, John. What the hell do you fucking want from me?" he hissed. 

"All I want is you," John said softly, stepping closer since no one was watching them. "I fucking like you, Charley..." He carefully watched him, wanting to know how he'd react. 

Simon's eyes widened, then he looked away to hide a blush. "Take off, John," he said. "You're acting fucking ridiculous. You're a fucking idiot." 

"I probably am for wanting you of all people, I mean, you treat me like fucking shit. But... I like you a lot. A lot..." John smiled sadly, realizing he was being rejected even after Simon fucked him. It was worth the heartbreak, though. "No one else will put up with your shit like I have. When you realize just how much I adore you, tell me... Alright? Even though I'm just a fucking idiot..." 

John didn't look at Simon at all. He hadn't thought about how sad this could make him. Simon didn't want him, he just wanted someone to fuck. And he let him. He quickly walked away.  
\-----  
It was about a week since that conversation. John walked down the hallway to his room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Simon, looking at him angrily. He'd been stopped right in front of his room and before he knew it, he was standing inside it and face to face with the man who controlled his feelings. 

"I thought you were fucking joking," Simon mumbled. "I thought that entire 'Charley, Charley' thing was a fucked up joke. Now you're giving me the cold shoulder." 

"To be fair, you were always cold to me," John said, folding his arms. "I wish it was a fucked up joke. I wish I could somehow forget my feelings for you. But you know what else I wish? I wish you could realize you've been a fucking jerk to me..." It absolutely broke his heart to tell him this. He wished he didn't have to talk to him right now. 

Simon put his hand on his forehead and laughed. "You're fucking ridiculous... You fucking like me. John Taylor fucking likes me. God, you idiot, I thought you were doing that for attention Then you go out of your way to be away from me, when earlier you were breathing on my neck." 

"Shut up, Simon," John snapped. "I'm sick of your bullshit. I'm pissed at myself for letting you fuck me. I'm pissed at myself for wanting to throw my arms around you." 

"You didn't have to go down on me," Simon reminded him. "You didn't have to tell me to fuck you. Get over yourself. Realize you fucked yourself over." 

John opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. He thought for a moment, then whispered, "... I thought you liked me since you didn't leave. I confessed to you then and you called me a fucking idiot... I'm not a fucking idiot... Except for that I like you. God, I wouldn't mind letting you fuck me every night, fuck me raw, call me names, I don't know, everything you have been doing... I would be fine with you never liking me back... But you called me ridiculous and told me to take off. That's what pissed me off. I'm not allowed to have fucking feelings." He saw Simon had nothing to say, his eyes wide as he thought of someway to respond to this. "And now, goodbye..." John walked out of the room before he could be called a fucking idiot again and made it to his own. He had fucked himself over.  
\-----  
After a week of trying to avoid Simon, for fear he'd give into him, John found himself stuck in a limo with him on their way to the hotel. He was staring out the window, and since there was no radio on, humming to himself for entertainment. 

Simon, after a minute of this, mumbled, "Hey, shut up with Joan Jett a minute, please." The please sounded force. John bitterly stopped and turned his head to look at the older man. "... Thank you. Okay, just hear me out." 

"God, you better make it fucking worth it." John would have rather not even have be near him. He hated how Simon could barely do anything and control him completely. 

"... I regret calling you a fucking idiot. I understand you have feelings, and I acted like a dick about it. Please be aware I didn't expect you to really... like me," Simon said. His eyes were gentle and showed John he was sincere. 

"... Okay." John closed his eyes and remained silent for a moment, thinking of what to say. "Alright Charley... It's okay..."

"You're not a fucking idiot," Simon said to him. He ran his hand through his hair, and looked down at his feet. "Just sometimes you're a lot to handle... Thank you for being so forgiving though..." 

John smiled slightly at Simon, knowing he meant every word he said. "I can't stay mad at you... Believe me, I try..." 

"You did say," Simon said under his breath, moving a bit closer to John. His eyes met the younger's, and he could feel the chills run through his body. "... You wouldn't mind me fucking you raw." 

John's smile turned into a full out smirk. "... I would actually love that." Hell, he couldn't help but give into him.  
\-----  
The two wound up in John's room. After about an hour, both men were exhausted and lying in his bed, John wrapped in Simon's arms with a cigarette in his hand. 

He took a long drag on it and then whispered, "You're fucking great, Charley..." He reached over to put out his cigarette, then snuggled back up to the sweaty man. He adored being this close to him.

Simon didn't respond to this. He only combed through John's hair with his fingers. The younger's head was set on his chest. He didn't even give a fuck what Simon was currently thinking, he was too busy thinking about how nice it was to be snuggled up to him. 

Much to his disappointment, the man gently pushed him off his chest. "... John, I have to fucking go... It's almost 11." 

"Charley..." John whined. He sat up and he stared longingly at Simon, wanting to convince him to stay. 

The elder man was already zipping up his pants, then moved onto his shirt. "I don't want the others to find out," he told him. "If I keep leaving your room in the morning, they'll figure something out. We were playing a nice game of cards tonight, remember?" 

Before John could say another word, he was off. He stared at the door a moment, then planted his head in the pillow in frustration. Nice, huh? he thought.  
\-----  
"Charley..." John had spotted him in the hallway two days later. It was the first time he had been alone around him and wasn't going to let him just go off. He couldn't give up on him. "Charle-"

"John," Simon said back to make him stop talking. "Come on, my fucking room's right here..." 

John didn't exactly follow his words but he did follow him inside his room. He kept his eyes on Simon, his eyebrows involuntarily raising as he watched him pull off his shirt and toss it on the floor. He could see all of his chest, and it was hard to keep his cool. 

"Again?" asked John. No, he wasn't against it at all. He wanted Simon to dominate him again, take advantage of everything he had to offer. He just didn't expect Simon to want to again. 

"Yes, again." Simon began to undo his pants, then he realized John wasn't doing anything. He stopped and gave him a look that told him to just do it. He wasn't one to wait. 

John giggled and shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. It couldn't hurt to test him a bit. "No, Charley. I just want to watch you for now." He grinned at the way Simon reacted, his eyes narrowing as he pondered why John would want to do this. He must have figured it out quickly, though, because he was soon completely undressed. 

His hands then roamed down John's clothed torso, his eyes watching what he was doing. He licked his lips, and brushed a thumb over John's nipple through the thin fabric. The younger's arms dropped to his side and he let out a shaky sigh as Simon touched him. "Jesus Christ, fine... Take them off and just fuck me, Charley!"   
\-----  
This time, it only had lasted about a half hour before John's arms were wrapped around Simon, his head on his chest and his body on his. His eyes were closed and he felt he was about to doze off. 

"John..." Simon whispered, his hand rubbing his bare back, up and down, a bit roughly to wake him.

"... What..." John replied sleepily, burying his face in his chest. 

Simon took a minute to reply, and he said, "You should be on your way..." 

John scowled, remember why Simon left the other day. He lifted his head up and looked at him sadly. "... But, Charley... I don't wanna..." He knew what he wanted didn't really matter, though. 

"... I asked you to go. Do it, alright...?" Simon whispered back, moving his hand to stroke John's hair. 

John had the urge to slap him, call him an asshole, say he only wanted the sex, but Simon made a point of making sure he knew that before they did anything. And John started it all. He didn't ask him if he liked him or try to make him before he sucked him off to begin with. 

"Alright..." John said, pushing himself off Simon and standing up. He quickly put on his clothes, then looked over at the man still lying in the bed. 

"John," Simon said, sitting up a bit. He didn't even look disappointed in the slightest. "... Tomorrow, come here in the middle of the night." He tossed him his spare key, and John slid it in his pocket. 

"Tomorrow," John repeated. He then walked out the door to go sleep alone.   
\-----  
John was walking back to his room three says later, when he heard a familiar voice. He groaned when he heard his name. 

"John... John... John..." It was Nick standing behind him, a devilish smirk on his pink lips. "Now that I have your glorious attention," he started, making hand gestures as he spoke. "Charley's making a fucking fool of himself. I'd stay away from him for a day or two... He needs to a have nice shag, if you ask me." 

"Thanks," John said flatly, sticking the key in its place. "And?" He really was grateful Nick told him. And a nice shag is what Simon would have.

"... I dunno," Nick replied blankly, crossing his arms. "You two have just been buddy buddy together, so I thought you should know. So you can avoid him. Thank me later." He was looking at his nails as he said this, his fingers curled. 

"Aww," John said sarcastically. "Thank you so much, Nick. You're an absolute life saver. I don't know how I could ever repay you for your generousity." He saw the smaller man scowl and drop his hand. 

"If you were a bird, speaking of which, I want to find one, I'd tell you to just suck me off. But even if you were a bird, you wouldn't suck very well... Though, who would ever know?" Nick told him, the annoying smirk on his face. John could never tell if he liked his filthy mouth or not. It was hard to tell, considering sex was all he talked about. 

"Anyways," Nick concluded. "I'm going to go find someone to suck me off... Hey, maybe you should go see how good you are at that with Charley. Now don't come looking for me." 

"Wouldn't dream of it," John said as he walked into his room.  
\-----  
And a nice shag is what they had. John was prepared to be kicked out now, and at 3 AM he was throwing on his shirt.

"Why such a hurry?" Simon asked, leaning back on the headboard and staring at John quizzically.

"Like hell you want me to stay here," John replied bitterly, standing up to put on his pants. 

"Do you not want to?" Simon inquired, moving out of the bed to look at John. "I never told you to leave, or at least I don't think I did tonight... Correct me if I'm wrong..." 

"But you don't want to end up being caught!" John protested, sliding on his belt. "You told me that... I'll go before I'm caught..." 

"If they see you sneak out in the morning once every few weeks, I doubt they'll look at it twice. Overnight game of cards, I guess," Simon told him, grinning. "Just stay, you're warm and I like that. It's nice to hug you." 

John paused what he was doing and stared at Simon wide eyed. His mouth was open and his cheeks were red. His hands still held onto the belt, trying to buckle it when his body shut down. In other words, John was speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. Simon had given him a complement. 

"If you want, stay dressed. But set your ass back in that bed," Simon mumbled, crawling under the covers again and holding them up for John to join. 

John grinned and just dropped his pants. He jumped into the bed and snuggled back up to Simon, closing his eyes and savoring the sweet feeling of just being wrapped in his strong arms. Maybe there was a chance he was Simon's type.  
\-----  
After a month of fucking around, John noticed it was really taking a toll on his attitude. They didn't have another nice night of cuddling. He had told himself it was alright if Simon never liked him back, but being fucked by someone who doesn't give a shit about him, felt like crap. He never did think it would, though. 

He was in his hotel room, smoking a cigarette and lying backwards on his bed, head hanging off it, eyes looking up at the boring ceiling. He exhaled the smoke, and closed his eyes, resting his hand on his chest. 

"Fuck you, Charley," he whispered aloud, feeling he really needed to express his feelings at least to himself. "God fucking dammit, Charley!" 

And at the worst possible time, when he was using every possible swear word to express his feelings to Simon, the man walked into his room. He groaned and peeked an eye open to look at him, seeing the surprised face of his fuck buddy. 

"... What?" John asked him. He took another puff of the cigarette, and he could feel it burning his fingers. 

Simon walked over to him, and took the cigarette from his fingers. "What were you saying about me? Fucking asshole fucker shit bastard?" he asked, putting the cigarette out. 

"Ah, shut up..." John whispered sadly. He rolled onto his stomach and blankly stared out at the wall, trying to distract from Simon. 

"Do you want me to leave, then?" Simon asked gently, sitting beside him. He ran his hand up and down the man's back, his nails scratching gently. 

"Fuck off," John snapped back. He didn't want to fuck that night. 

"Well, someone's obviously in a pissy mood..." Simon murmured as he stood back up. He rubbed his hand in John's greasy hair, which made him growl back, then walked out of the room. John didn't look at him to see how he felt about it. 

The younger let his head fall into the sheets, groaning loudly at himself. He just needed a week or so to push away these dumb thoughts. Maybe, just sometimes, it would be nice to cuddle. But with the attitude he gave Simon, he'd be surprised if he ended up with that.   
\-----  
The elder man had been avoiding John the next week. Not because he was frightened of his attitude, but because every time he walked close to the younger, he would only snarl at him. John was too dense to catch onto this, though. He wanted to talk to Simon, but he didn't want to approach him on his own. So, he did was he thought was easiest. Since the tour was over, he slipped his house key in the man's coat pocket. 

He'd been waiting for him to come over for a few days now. He knew he wouldn't come instantly, the distance put a stop to that. He knew Simon would eventually, though.

He was up late, two or three in the morning, he wasn't paying attention, watching movies on his TV, while he was wrapped in blankets on his couch. He couldn't hear the door creak open and shut. His eyes were about to close for the night, then he felt firm hands on his shoulders. He jolted up and stared wide eyed at Simon. 

"Charley!" he exclaimed happily, the sight of the man pushing aside his earlier anger. He grabbed his chin and pulled him into a simple kiss, then broke away and looked at him serious. "... Can you sit down beside me...?" 

Simon walked to the front of the couch, and sat beside John as he requested. He looked at him curiously, waiting for him to tell him what was on his mind. 

John took a deep breath, since the only light was from his television, it was easier to speak to Simon. He couldn't see his reactions as clearly. "... Charley," he whispered sadly. "... I'm sorry I wound up so fucking pissed with you last week..." 

"It's fine," Simon replied softly, trying his best not to be called anything John had said then. Fucking asshole fucker shit bastard wasn't on his list of nicknames he wanted. 

"... I just... Don't get me wrong, the sex is amazing..." he mumbled, his face turning a light pink, though Simon would never be able to tell. "... I want... to just cuddle on somedays... Without having to be naked. Be in your arms, feel your hands touching my back, feel your chest heave as you breathe..." The pink was even more visible as he continued to speak. "What I'm saying is- I don't like it just being sex, I'm being selfish, but... I like feelings to be involved sometimes." 

"I understand that, John," Simon told him quietly. "I prefer there to be feelings as well."

John felt his heartbreaking. He didn't want to terminate what they had, but it was literally tearing him apart. "I can't go on without... You know... Please understand this..." 

And for the first time, Simon kissed him. Before, John was always the one to kiss him. He was too stunned to even kiss his. His body was literally frozen. The kiss was brief and when Simon pulled away, he chuckled. 

"You dork," he mumbled. He reached a hand out to brush his hair out of his face. John was bright red now. "You like me, right?" Hesitantly, John nodded, staring down at his hands. "Then there's feelings." 

John thought about what he said a moment, then looked up at him with a bewildered look. "But... I thought I was just a fucking idiot for that! You don't like me, your actions said it, all you wanted to do was fuck me-" 

"Please, John, shut the fuck up and listen to me," Simon said, resting his hand on John's shoulder. The younger obediantly listened to him, biting his lip. "Don't blame that on me. Your reactions to whatever I did made me notice you just wanted to fuck. I may have started it a lot, but you did as well just as many times. I was there to cuddle on somedays, but you would run off before you could figure it out. I simply bit my tongue, because you get mean sometimes."

John shook his head, unable to believe it. "But... You don't really like me, you've just been fucking me because I'm offering myself is all!" 

Simon chuckled and dropped his hand from his shoulder. "... For a while, yes. God, sometimes I could fucking hate you. But when I saw how... vulnerable and sweet you could be... I kind of ended up liking you more. You weren't just that fucking idiot. And when you didn't let your feelings just brush over, yeah I was pissed and annoyed by your reaction at first, but I realized you really are something." 

John's mouth was open, not expecting to hear what the man was saying. Simon pushed his jaw up to shut his mouth and chuckled. "So, yes John. I fucking like you. I'm telling you I've realized not only do you adore me, I adore you too. Now, turn off the TV, and we can cuddle on the couch until we fall asleep." 

John grinned and knew he didn't have to say anything to Simon. He grabbed the remote from the crease of the couch, then flicked off the television. He was in complete darkness with Simon and it felt good to just be able to rely on him as he lied on top of him, his arms wrapped around his neck. 

"Oh, and you're kinda cute," Simon told him. John giggled softly and nuzzled his chest with his face in return. Simon pulled the blanket over them and started to pet John's hair. 

It turned out, he was Simon's type.


End file.
